


Hickory, dickory, dock…did the clock chime…?

by That_awkwardanimephan (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Clocks, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, English, Hearing Voices, How Do I Tag, Illusions, Longitude, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Other, Scary, Schizophrenia, Suspension, Thriller, auditory hallucinations, but there is some, except not really, it's fine, more so, possibly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 12:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20600627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/That_awkwardanimephan
Summary: Original work, wherein our male character wakes one night to find the house dark and everything slightly out of place.And where was that mysterious ticking noise coming from??"He turned back toward the kitchen, but the sound only got louder and faster until all he could hear was the obnoxious noise of ticking clocks and grinding gears and swinging bells, and the hallway lamp, the man’s only solace in the darkness, turned off, leaving him lost, surrounded by sound, blinded by an absence of light. Trapped, and unable to escape."





	Hickory, dickory, dock…did the clock chime…?

It was the gentle chiming of the clock that made the young man fall asleep. Not the pouring rain, the wailing winds or the rustle of the trees outside. The familiar, dependable chime which, currently, was neither too soft for the man not to hear, nor too loud to keep him awake. Perhaps the clock was in a room over, for its chime was too quiet and all too clear to have come from another building.

The man turned himself over, exchanging his current position, contemplatively staring up at the ceiling, for one of comfort, snuggling into his throw quilt and pillows. Focusing on the calming chime of the clock and nothing more, the man’s eyelids slowly closed, and his world slipped into darkness.

The man peeled his eyes open, a yawn escaping his mouth. Beyond the window, the sky was brightening with shades of pink and orange, and he concluded that there was too little time to fall asleep once again. Rising from his small bed, tucked into the corner of his room, facing its window, the man began to wander about the bedroom, tinkering with trinkets by his bedside until he decided to quell his boredom by wandering to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Exiting his own space and entering the loungeroom, the young man, eager to rid the house of the eerie darkness currently enveloping it, walked through the threshold towards the lonely light switch opposite him. After only a moment, the man arrived. He clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to be blinded by the bright light, and hurriedly flicked the switched. Expectantly, he blinked his eyes open, only to be met with… darkness?

_How strange, hadn’t the lightbulb only been changed yesterday?_

It had been dark for an unusually long time, the man noticed. Usually, after the hues of the early morning sunrise littered the sky, the house became bright and lively. However, as he pattered down the long hallway leading to the kitchen, it began to get… darker… until the hall was lit only by a single lamp, casting shadows down the room, elongating its appearance until the kitchen was but a mere speck in the distance.

Comforted by the lack of total darkness, the man, though apprehensive, refused to turn back, and continued his journey for a simple glass of water down the never-ending hallway. He was interrupted, however, by a faint sound. It was nearly indistinguishable, and if the other members of the house had been awake it surely would have been impossible to hear. In the quiet of the early morning, however, it was not.

The man stilled, straining his ears to hear until… there it was! A small, quiet, repetitive _tick_.

He sighed in relief, it was just the clock, just the clock, whose chiming had long since been replaced by ticking. It was nothing to fear, for a clock could not hurt him. The man continued walking.

He was stopped by the sound of the ticking getting louder. Strange, but explainable, maybe the clock was in a room now close to him. Except, in the middle of the hallway, there were no doors near, except those of the kitchen and his own bedroom.

The man turned, expecting to see a clock hidden in the darkness, but was met by a black abyss. He turned back toward the kitchen, but the sound only got louder and faster until all he could hear was the obnoxious noise of ticking clocks and grinding gears and swinging bells, and the hallway lamp, the man’s only solace in the darkness, turned off, leaving him lost, surrounded by sound, blinded by an absence of light. Trapped, and unable to escape.

The man woke with a startled gasp, body cold, eyes wide, and chest heaving. he pinched himself on the forearm. He had to make sure this was not a dream; he couldn’t make that mistake again.

“It’s okay, it’s real.” The man breathed in relief, his thoughts frantic._ Safe_.

Still on edge, he hurriedly swept his room for the instrument which had plagued his nightmare. It had to go.

His feet pattered quickly across the soft carpet of the bedroom and out to the rest of the house, searching, searching. As the sun rose over the horizon and light flooded the house, the man stopped short in his search as a thought occurred to him that sent a shiver of dread down his spine.

_He never did recall having a clock._

But, if there was no clock, there could be no chime.

Although, if the man thought about it, this was the first time he had heard such a sound in his own home.

It had sounded so real.

It must have been.

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> I always manage to work that phrase 'An absence of light' into my stories its strange. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
